


After the Bat

by MeltyRum



Category: Fate/Zero, Made in Abyss (Anime), Persona Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:48:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23173426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeltyRum/pseuds/MeltyRum
Summary: Victim introspection.
Kudos: 2
Collections: Boku no Hero Academia x Persona





	After the Bat

How long had he been living in Japan, really? Having always appreciated the culture, he had leaped at the opportunity to participate in his school’s exchange program. It was hard not to be excited at the idea of seeing the virtues that people typically extolled about post-war Japan: the people were polite, the food was good, its fashion appealing, the transportation efficient, and the regulation of its heroes made them very popular public figures—it was like being in some kind of wonderland where celebrities in fantastic outfits could be seen anywhere you went!

And it was safe, people said. Japan was a _relatively_ crime-free and secure country, particularly for foreigners. Despite the villain activity that had been plaguing the nation in the past year, this sentiment likely held true, statistically speaking.

It was a shame, then, that the statistics had fallen through for Marulk. He considered this as he washed the morning’s dishes at the kitchen sink, a place where morose thoughts always seemed to rise to the surface of his mind as he scrubbed vigorously at whatever offending morsels happened to be leftover this time.

How long had he been in Japan before it happened? he wondered again. Not terribly long, since the school year remained incomplete. And until that particular incident had occurred, Marulk would have been happy to spend the entirety of his high school career here, if possible. Nothing particularly bad had happened until _that_ ; sure, there were times where it wasn’t unusual for him to feel unwelcome—or at least like he didn’t exactly belong—but he could tell the feeling had gotten worse. Most people wouldn’t recognize him, but his story was out there, considering how Fox had threaded his way into it.

Marulk couldn’t go “home”, though—running away wasn’t really an option, considering how kind everyone had been. Kanji and Yusuke had agreed to take him in, and Marulk had been too touched and nervous to refuse their offer. Surely he could look forward to no longer being alone, in what ought to be a caring environment where he could recover much more rapidly than if he were in some hospital filled with beleaguered doctors and therapists with whom he could not properly communicate. It was most likely even more ideal than returning to Germany, since at least _this_ way Marulk may be able to return to his education and complete the program.

The thought of returning to his studies frightened him either way, however. He had missed school while imprisoned by Ryuunosuke, but now—as much as he wanted it—he could not be certain that the school would even take him back. Even if he went, what would people say of him? He could scarcely hope for everything to be the just the way he had left it.

No point in brooding on it, he told himself—that was something he could say about any number of things, yet he found himself brooding upon all of them anyway. He had a lot of time for it, these days.

The unfortunate reality of things was that the caring benefactors who had taken him in were not always the best of company. Kanji—while he couldn’t be blamed—always seemed sad and uncertain and guilty, knowing there was only so much he could do. And Yusuke—while he couldn’t be blamed—seemed almost to have contracted some kind of mania where he would wheel rapidly along a diverse spectrum of emotions.

While Marulk could not claim to be completely readjusted, it still made him feel guilty for being noticeably less affected by the ordeal than Yusuke had been. Granted, Marulk had not even once been forced to take a baseball bat to the head, so on many levels the discrepancy made sense. But between his own guilt and depression and overall malaise toward being alive, there were sometimes even uglier thoughts that crossed his mind. For example: Marulk had been forced to under go Ryuunosuke’s tortures for so long, so how come a hero like Fox had ended up being unable to withstand it? How come he was so… _broken_ now? Was there even any hope of him getting better?

Whenever those thoughts surfaced, Marulk did his best to bury them. It wasn’t fair to either of them—they had undergone different things. Marulk’s trauma had taken place over an extended period, whereas Yosuke’s was just… _more—_ of pretty much everything _._ There was no point in dwelling on it, but sometimes it felt that dwelling was the only thing he was capable of anymore. It seemed like every hour brought with it a cruel reminder of what “Ryuu-kun” had done to him—of all the embarrassing and humiliating things Marulk had decided to allow to happen to him instead of fighting back for fear of death.

If Marulk had understood what his rescue would mean—what safety after such events would feel like—would he have even bothered? Would he have been better off fighting or begging for Ryuunosuke to just hurry up and kill him?

Maybe. After all, if he had gotten his throat slit in rebellion against his captor, Yusuke and Kanji wouldn’t be in this position. If he had never even pretended to want Ryuunosuke’s affection and approval, Fox would never have been called to his apartment. The shame of it often moved him to tears; it mortified him how quickly his life had become about making Ryuunosuke happy—about prioritizing his safety over his dignity or, indeed, the safety of others. If only Yusuke had never given him his phone number; if only Marulk had never shown the number to Ryuunosuke…

Of course, Kanji—desperate to help in any way he could—would eagerly try to remind Marulk that what happened to Yusuke wasn’t his fault—that he never did anything wrong. If such words didn’t always make Marulk begin to whimper and sob, then they might have made him laugh instead. He wasn’t sure if he would ever be able tell Kanji—or anybody else—what he had personally done to Yusuke. He was grateful that his knife-work was clumsy enough not to have hurt Yusuke too badly, but the things he had been forced to do shortly after that…

There was nothing he could do in order to make up for it, but—in return—he did his very best to try and be a good boy for them—for the strange pseudo-parents who had kindly “adopted” him into their household. He probably spent more time caring for Yusuke than the other way around, though, not that it troubled him too much. Sometimes it hurt to look at him—or to be near anywhere near him—but most of the time he was happy to perform the little tasks that Yusuke may not be up for completing. It almost functioned as an apology, or as a way for him to give back to a couple that had been kind to him, even though they were suffering even more than he was.

And although Kanji tried to take off as much work as he could, it usually fell upon Marulk to help out—not that he’d ever been asked to. In a strange way, he’d already gotten used to his role as the “servant” from his days in captivity… and it went without saying that serving his elder roommates was much easier than serving the man who played with and punished him whenever he desired.

With a start, Marulk remembered himself when he nearly dropped one of the dishes, which he’d unwittingly been letting the faucet run over for what must have been minutes. He composed himself long enough to put the dishes away, drying his hands before taking off his apron and hanging it by the entrance to the kitchen. Even keeping his hands busy couldn’t take his mind off of everything, it seemed; Marulk wasn’t sure if it was good or bad that he still spent so much of his time focusing on it, remembering it, reflecting on all of it.

No—that was wrong. It sounded cold when he thought of it that way. Reflecting? It was more emotional than that— _that_ was why he couldn’t stop. The trauma he’d experienced now lived in the pit of his stomach, lying there and spreading a feeling of decay and rot and disgustthrough him, and feeling that is what made him continuously think poorly of things—of himself, his circumstances, even Yusuke and Kanji, his negative thoughts flowing on a looping conveyor belt that made him question the worth of his life and that of his friends.

When he thought “friends” these days, he thought of Kanji and Yusuke, of course. They all seemed so miserable, but neither of them had done any wrong and were, in fact, both his saviors. Despite what happened to Yusuke, if the hero _hadn’t_ shown up, then Marulk wouldn’t have been saved. Fortunately, Marulk had been rescued, even if the price was Yusuke’s prime.

Fox was his hero, for sure, even if he didn’t look it just now.

He looked to the door of Yusuke’s room, grateful that the artist was currently sleeping, since he wasn’t sure if he could bear to see the other’s face just now—not because he didn’t _want_ to, but because he understood that his own control over his emotions was frayed and tenuous. If he were faced with his hero now, Marulk couldn’t know if he would cry or smile or run to his side or flee to the studio.

Marulk decided to preempt this risk by navigating himself to the studio in question, where he could tidy up the little futon he had there.It wasn’t the most comfortable of accommodations, but since some of Yusuke’s finer motor skills were still in the midst of recovery, the artist didn’t have much use for the space. It was a nice enough environment for a good night’s sleep—other than occasionally catching an unwelcome glimpse of the odd portrait in the corner of your eye every few nights.

It also gave Marulk just enough privacy, which was good; despite his mulling and brooding and pitying himself, he very often found that being alone was what he wanted most.

And being a transient exchange student, he was able to bring most of his personal effects to Yusuke’s apartment, including some of his most favorite “outfits”. It would probably have been too embarrassing to wear any of them outside his room—while Yusuke had seem him in a dress, neither he nor Kanji really knew about this hobby yet, so the most he could do is try on a few pieces and admire himself, or else hold them close to himself as he slept, as though they were some kind of particularly frilly stuffed animal.

Still, it would only be a matter of time before they knew, and holding it inside like some sort of secret felt… _bad_. There were certainly things he wanted to keep quiet about—such as what he’d done to Yusuke—so being similarly ashamed of his more feminine options almost made it feel like it was on the same level. He knew it _wasn’t_ , but that’s what he felt: if it was a secret, it was shameful, so maybe he had better just come on out with it.

His experiences with Ryuunosuke _did_ make him wonder if it was “wrong”, though. Arguably, his little cross-dressing hobby was the precise thing that had gotten him kidnapped.

While prisoner, Marulk had only got to wear dresses and otherwise “complete” outfits whenever he was allowed out (since Ryuunosuke favored clothing of poor taste whenever his prisoner was chained indoors), so in that sense these kinds of clothes made him feel a bit safer, to the point where wearing masculine clothes had begun to feel… ill-fitting? And when he put on that dress, it was easy to justify the necklace or the ribbon which might hide the marks on his neck. His body was well-suited to it, too, with his skinny body and soft facial features…

But maybe Ryuunosuke had been right; he claimed not to like men, but had eagerly taken Marulk as a lover and a maid, regardless. Intellectually, Marulk knew that this didn’t _really_ make him a woman, but… what if that is who those feelings belonged to—some sort of “female” Marulk that lived somewhere inside him? For Marulk’s part, though, his experiences meant that he still often alternated in between fascination and disgust with his own body. Considering what it had gone through, it was sometimes difficult to look at it in the same way—both figuratively and literally. His body no longer felt like it was entirely _his_ , as though a piece of him now lived outside of it, following along as a gentle and unassuming spectator.

And if one were to inspect Marulk’s abdomen, one might find a possible explanation—or at least the piece of an explanation—for this sensation. He got to see it nearly every day, if there happened to be a mirror nearby when he changed, for it was difficult to miss the prominent _UR_ that had been carved and burned and scarred onto his belly. Ryuunosuke had allowed himself a significant amount of space with which to mark his prey, so the (backwards) letters in the mirror would be hard to miss in any situation. Marulk wondered how difficult it might be to explain such vandalism to a future mate; it was such a distasteful and ugly reminder of the near-past that he couldn’t see anyone accepting it.

But perhaps he should simply be glad that Ryuunosuke had not chosen to write his name in kanji. It was surprisingly difficult for Marulk to remember the specifics of the pain he felt moment-to-moment, but you didn’t require a strong imagination in order to dread the idea of having so many different strokes carved into your skin. The sight of these initials might prove to be a sad memento for the remainder of his days, but at least he Ryuunosuke had been “kind” enough to spare him at least some measure of suffering.

He looked to the mirror in his studio room,putting a hand to his belly and resisting the faint urge to peek once again at the scars. Now that he thought about it, it was rather difficult to conjure the memory of his branding; was he just crying too much at the time to recall a clear picture? Or… was he drugged, perhaps?

Thanks in part to his stay at the hospital, Marulk no longer craved any of the illegal substances that Ryuunosuke had shared with him. He was relieved to come out of the ordeal free of any addiction to or desire for drugs, and it probably helped that Ryuunosuke was so stingy about sharing them, since this meant he only got a taste of it whenever his captor was in the mood for an especially submissive and groggy version of Marulk… or when Taiga visited.

He wished he could say that Taiga’s visits had been the worst, but that honestly wasn’t true. While similarly cruel and unrelenting, it quickly became obvious that Taiga Shiroze was not nearly as unhinged as Ryuunosuke was, which came through in the treatment of his toys. The perverse nature of the pleasure that Taiga coveted seemed to be derived from forcing Marulk to give in and feel things _in spite_ of the horrific situation he’d been placed in—Ryuunosuke, on the other hand, cared more or less only for his own entertainment. So while Taiga’s visits were still an altogether violating and painful experience, Marulk could tell that being forced to be Shiroze’s “girlfriend” would have been a much easier existence, overall.

It honestly concerned Marulk a little; if _he_ were Taiga, he would want to spend as little time in that Ryuunosuke’s lunatic presence as possible. It didn’t seem like it would be out of character for Ryuu to simply stab Taiga in the back and get the drugs that way.

Too late for that, though. Before Ryuunosuke’s tendencies could get further and further out of hand, Yusuke had arrived and—in a roundabout way—freed Marulk from whatever ultimate fate Ryuu-kun had been planning for him. Which meant that Marulk’s primary concern was in waiting for the pain to fade and for “normal life” to resume for himself and his two kind roommates.

Maybe it wouldn’t take all that long. In a few months, Yusuke might be back to his normal self and—hero or not—sharing kisses and affection with Kanji like he used to, whenever he wasn’t cooped up in his studio, chasing whatever flavor of beauty had piqued his interest. Marulk could wear his school uniform by day and change to a skirt at home, clinging to one or both of his benefactors and doing whatever he could to show his gratitude toward them.

Their scars might not go away, but Marulk would hope his best for a life of domestic bliss…that there would be some reward for enduring the pain they all carried today.


End file.
